


15 Shots

by cyren2132



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Guns, PTSD, Therapy Session
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyren2132/pseuds/cyren2132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonas doesn't understand why he feels this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	15 Shots

**Author's Note:**

> Winner of round 10 in the Stargate Last Author Standing challenge on Livejournal in 2011. The prompt was "Flashback."

When Jonas Quinn  arrived on Earth, he immersed himself in Daniel Jackson's office, reading his notes, examining his artifacts, learning about the man he only knew a short while.  
  
He felt a tremendous amount of respect for Dr. Jackson, as well as sadness for his passing, and guilt for the manner in which it had happened. He tried not to dwell on it, but then a month passed, and he didn't have a choice.  
  
"What happened last week?" Dr. MacKenzie asked.  
  
"A low-pressure system was making its way across the Midwest, pretty much drenching the --" MacKenzie held up his hand.  
  
"Not in the weather, Mr. Quinn," he said.  
  
"Oh," Jonas looked down at his hands."I was walking around the base -- that's really all I can do, you guys won't let me go anywhere else -- did you know there's a firing range here?"  
  
"I do," MacKenzie answered. "It's a large mountain."  
  
"Yeah, so I was walking with Major Carter, and I guess we were coming up on the range, because I could hear it. Those large weapons of yours, the ... P90s?" MacKenzie nodded, and Jonas continued. "They make an _impressive_ sound. It's really something else." Jonas stopped talking. A smile danced briefly on his lips before wavering away. "But then someone was using one of your smaller handguns..."  
  
"The Beretta."  
  
"That one," Jonas said. "Yeah. I don't ... I don't know what happened."  
  
MacKenzie consulted his notes and looked at Jonas over the rims of his glasses. "Major Carter says you stopped and flung yourself against the wall before sinking to the ground, visibly shaken and unable to speak for several minutes."  
  
"Oh. Yes, that happened."  
  
"I see," MacKenzie said.  
  
The two lapsed into silence, the only sounds coming from the clock ticking on the wall.   
  
"When the alarms started going off back on Kelowna," Jonas finally said, "I got this feeling. This overwhelming sense of dread. One of my friends went running from the room, the others dropped like flies and I couldn't do anything. Have you ever been in a situation where you knew -- or, you thought you knew -- you were going to die? And so was everyone and everything else around you? It is suffocating.   
  
"And through all that, there was Dr. Jackson. He pulled out his weapon, the ... Beretta?"  
  
MacKenzie nodded at the term.   
  
"Anyway, he pulled it out and fired at the window. It was 15 shots -- I can hear them, plain as day -- and with each one I could feel my heart beating faster and harder and like it could stop at any second."  
  
Jonas stopped. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his face, as if trying to scrub away the memory.  
  
"It's going to sound crazy, but when I heard those shots again the other day, it was like reliving not only that moment but the next day as well. Watching my friends die. Knowing that Dr. Jackson suffered the same fate. Being muzzled by a government that only wanted to destroy human life under the guise of security. It was too much."  
  
MacKenzie leaned forward and looked at Jonas with a compassion that betrayed the base's general view of the man as "head-shrinking quack."   
  
"Jonas, what you experienced was a flashback triggered by what you heard," he said. "It's not a terribly unusual occurrence for someone who's been through a traumatic event, and it most definitely does not sound 'crazy.'"  
  
"Will it always be like that?" Jonas asked.  
  
"No," MacKenzie said. "I can help you."


End file.
